The Last Ship: The Backstory
by queenpearl
Summary: The backstory for TNT's television series featuring USS Nathan James, USS Arleigh Burke, USS Zumwalt and more. Co-written by fellow fanfictionist TitanicX. Her OC Spray Kane makes an appearance in this story.
1. Chapter 1

The river was an amazing sight to anyone who was on its banks. Yet the real sight was not the river. It was the base built onto its left bank that really caught the eye. With buildings that were modern, yet holding some semblance of the military past, it was a well-built blend of modern and old. The real odd thing though was not just the location, but what lived on it as well.

It turned out that living ships were not the only sentient vehicles around.

One of those vehicles was a young FBI plane named Spray Krane, and he was currently staying with his wife and young daughter at the base. He was a lot different than most other crop dusting planes, and for a very good reason. He was a mix: A P-51 hybrid with AT-802 crop duster genes. His paint job was black all over, save for his rudder which bore a white Jolly Wrenches decal and on his nose were two Skyslycer props, black with blue tips. He had brown eyes and a tinted visor rested on his cockpit. Underneath him was a custom-built sprayer for his job, and he had two guns on each wing, for a total of four.

He was currently overlooking the base's docks, where a young ship named Nathan James was finishing his training. He had to admit, the kid was good. He just needed to work on his skills a bit, and he'd be fit for duty.

Said ship had finished his work for the day and was now sniffing around looking for something to do. He set his sights on his older brother, Arleigh Burke who was intently focused on his work. Feeling mischievous, Nathan James snuck up behind him and when he was as close as he could get, he blew his horn as loudly as he could.

Arleigh yelped and nearly bashed his bow into the dock as Nathan howled with laughter at his reaction.

"Aw man! You should have seen your face, bro!" he cried. "That was priceless!"

The young destroyer nearly collapsed onto his side as he lost himself to laughter once more, tears streaming down his superstructure. Arleigh rolled his eyes and turned to face him.

"What is the matter with you?" he asked. "Are you trying to give yourself a bad reputation here?!"

"Aww come on man, where's your sense of humor?!" Nathan whined.

Arleigh rolled his eyes again. "Nathan, you have got to stop acting like a shipling!" he said.

"Ah, c'mon, Arleigh," a voice said.

The older destroyer looked down and was surprised to see the black FBI plane coming up to greet them, a smile on his front. "He's just being silly. And it was kinda funny when you nearly bashed your bow in. Well, more like your face when he blew his horn," he said.

"Priceless. It was priceless Spray!" Nathan laughed.

Spray laughed a bit. "True. Anyway, the base commander just sent a message. Your next assignment is to do some obstacle training further up the river," he said. "I don't know why though." He shrugged his ailerons.

Nathan was glad they weren't twitching. That would mean bad news. "Tire piles and mast poles, fun." He said, speaking of the course with his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Spray grinned. "Hey. It's not too bad. Unlike the last one." He turned and was about to head off before he looked back. "And don't be late, or else you'll be doing miles!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Nathan saluted and raced off.

"That kid has more respect for you than he's ever shown to me." Arleigh rolled his eyes.

Spray chuckled a bit. "Well, whaddya expect? He's still young. And you..." The black plane grinned widely, a playful glint in his brown eyes. "...are just an old fart." He winked, though.

Arleigh grinned a bit, but shook his bow just the same. Spray turned and taxied off, passing by the other personnel at the base, both human and machine alike. Some waved and others just said hello when he finally arrived at the base commander's office, the man standing on the balcony overlooking the river obstacle course.

Spray turned to face it and was impressed by the layout this time.

Several large pilings were coated in tires and some even had mock guns on them, programmed to turn like the real deal, but what shot out were not real bullets, but lasers that struck the target and set off a few sensors that indicated slowing down or stopping altogether with a low tone. Dummy mines made up the first third, meaning the one taking the course had to weave through them without hitting the dummy. If they did, then the mines let out a warning and they had to slow down, simulating damage to their engines or rudder. And the last part of the course was where Nathan was having difficulty: air strikes. Spray looked at the planes parked on the runway close by, and he smirked a bit as one of them waved her rudders in a flirty manner.

He wondered if Nathan would be able to complete this course successfully, because last time the commander of the base had said if he failed, he'd be reassigned.

But Nathan was determined to pass this course, and prove himself ready for his future mission... whatever it was.

Nathan gritted his teeth as he eyed up the course from the starting line. He could do this. He was trained to.

The base commander looked at the young warship and nodded. "All right. You know this is your last chance, Nathan. You fail, and you get reassigned. So, do not mess this up," he said.

He held up his hand and looked at the stopwatch. There was a time limit for the first part: he had to make it through in ten minutes or less.

There was a pause before he nodded. "GO!"


	2. Chapter 2

Nathan's engines revved as he took off, reaching his top speed in seconds. He made an immediate hard right hand turn around the tire pile.

The commander noted that with a smile. "Good," he said.

Spray watched this with intense interest. He winced as Nathan's side scraped another tire piling, nicking his grey paint. Nathan swerved around another, pulling off a near 270 degree turn, impressing the commander as he dodged a few drones emerging from the tire piling. The drones missed him and retreated back into hiding.

More appeared from behind the makeshift dockyards. Nathan took them out with a pair of missiles. Spray watched in amazement and let out a low whistle. He had to admit, Nathan was getting better at this.

The base commander watched before he gave the signal to release more drones, this time armed with dummy missiles. This was to test his ability to take a punch. The missiles were loaded with paint, each paint color signifying varying degrees of damage. Red was fatal, orange was critical, yellow was moderate, green was light, and blue was zero damage.

Nathan's Phalanx opened up with rounds of shells. One by one the drones fell but not before firing a few rounds of their own. Nathan took 3 blues, 2 greens, and 1 yellow. An orange missed his mast by inches. Nathan laughed as he continued on, racing towards the finish line as his rear Phalanx took out the drones behind him. The last remaining red drone fired its paint after him and just as he crossed the finish line it hit.

"Damn it!" Nathan swore. But he'd done it. He'd crossed the finish line before it hit.

The base commander blinked, and he was actually impressed. He smiled. "Well, now that was impressive, Nathan," he said. "You passed the course. Were you training in secret or something?"

Spray grinned. He knew Nathan had been training in secret, but he wasn't mentioning it.

The young ship merely winked at Spray but said nothing. "My secret sir." He replied.

The commander chuckled and approached the ship, patting him on the bow. "Well, good work. May as well get that paint cleaned off. And report to dock for some rest."

He turned and walked off, passing by Spray who kept a straight face. Once the commander had left, Spray taxied up to the ship.

"Nice work," he said with a grin. "You really did a good job out there."

"Thanks." Nathan panted. "I thought I was a goner for sure."

Spray smiled and nudged him with a wing. "Okay. Get some rest."

As he turned and taxied off, he caught a glimpse of something on one of the TVs in the barracks. Confusion washed over him as he heard the reporter speaking about something and his eyes narrowed. He inched closer, and at that point his ailerons twitched.

"Trouble?" Arleigh asked, seeing this. He knew that when Spray's ailerons twitched, it meant the plane sensed something bad. So far his instincts had yet to be proven wrong.

Spray turned, his eyes narrowed a bit. "Yeah. I don't know what though." He turned back to face the barracks, his eyes narrowing a bit more. 'The only question is, what's wrong here?'

He had no idea how bad it was about to get over the next few weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

It started in Zumawalt. No one thought much of it as the teen ship had issues with his immune system since he was born.

Spray was the first one to get word from the FBI back in St. Paul: one of their agents was sick. The black plane knew that getting sick was normal, but this... something was just plain wrong here.

His ailerons twitched again and he gulped. For the last two weeks, things had been seemingly normal, but his instincts were telling him otherwise. It was just too normal... and that made him worried. The only news that he could glean was from the radio chatter at the base, and it sounded panicked. He had no idea what was going on, and it worried him.

Not to mention the base commander had headed into town to meet with his wife who had come back from Zumawalt... and hadn't reported in for five days.

Nathan sailed up behind him. "Zumwalt's been quarantined. I don't know what the hell he's caught this time but it's bad. The virus, whatever it is, is quick killer. Last I heard was he was covered in blisters and sores and coughing up blood. From what I understand, the virus attacks the bloodstream and turns it against the host."

Spray yelped and his ailerons and flaps waggled as he struggled to regain his breath and compose himself. He turned to face the destroyer. "Nathan! I hate that!" he remarked. "But... is what you said true?"

He was worried now. What were they supposed to do? It wasn't like the whole base was about to come under seige, was it? And was the commander even still alive?

He bit his lower lip as he turned to face the direction of the town not too far from the base. Something was seriously wrong here, and he knew it.

"Nathan... what is going on here?" he whispered.

"I don't know…" Nathan sounded helpless. "So much for a PhD in Bio Engineering. " He grumbled. "Can't even figure out what a simple f*** virus is!"

Spray looked back, his eyes filled with worry. "Well... something just doesn't seem right here..."

He suddenly gasped as his ailerons twitched again, and a few soldiers ran over, their faces filled with worry and fear. The alarm suddenly began to blare, and the base started to come alive as the personnel ran around, getting prepped for battle or whatever was coming their way.

Nathan snarled, rearing up as his weapon systems came online. His Phalanx pointed to the sky and he armed his missile bays.

"What's going on?" Spray asked as he glanced skyward, his visor dropping down over his eyes. He scanned the surrounding area for any sign of unusual energy signatures or heat signatures, but nothing showed up.

"I don't know," a soldier said as she looked up as well. "But whatever's going on, it's not good."

And she was right, for that's when it became clear what was going on. A loud roar tore open the air as a cluster of missiles came right for them.

"INCOMING!" someone shouted.

Nathan snarled and his Phalanx opened up, destroying 2 missiles in midair. "Down now!" He roared as an explosion ripped through the base.

The rest of the missiles impacted the base, destroying a good chunk of it. "Dammit!" Spray shouted as he dodged to the right as debris fell from one of the buildings. Several other missiles had been shot down by the jets as they mobilized, and two jets circled around. One of them, Spray's wife Wingma Nelson-Krane, was caught off guard when she saw the large truck further back, it's trailer loads with missiles and a launch system. But it wasn't like the convoy swarming towards them, a symbol painted on the sides of the vehicles. One of the men in the convoy was broadcasting to the base.

"All right! This is the property of the Dison Gang!" he shouted. "You will hand over all supplies at once, or we will be forced to attack!"

"Spray! We got trouble!" Wingma radioed. "A group of people calling themselves the Dison Gang is attacking the base! They want our supplies!"


	4. Chapter 4

Spray's eyes went wide at that. "Oh... Shit...!" he rasped.

"What'll we do!" his wife asked.

Spray just let out a whine of helplessness. He had no idea on what to do!

"Who's the Dison Gang? Spray?" Nathan whimpered.

Spray shrugged his ailerons. "I'm just as baffled as you!" he cried as another barrage of missiles barely missed the base's perimeter.

"Hate to be a spoilsport, but we gotta deal with these guys!" a soldier shouted at them. "And fast!"

"But how?!" Spray cried, looking at the man. "We can't risk having anyone else exposed to whatever is going around, and we sure as hell can't risk firing on those guys with the heavy artillery because they might have civilians with them!"

The black plane had a point, but they just couldn't sit back and let the base be destroyed.

"Sir, we need a plan," a techie said as she looked over. "And we need it now!"

"I know!" Spray snapped. He then paused. "Hold on. Did you just call me... sir?"

She nodded.

Nathan chuckled. "Interesting time for a promotion sir." He said, drawing out the sir at the end.

"But..." Spray tried to protest, but the cries of the missiles and the base personnel scrambling to its defense drove any thoughts from his mind. Instead he gritted his teeth and turned to face the group. "Okay. Change of plans. Nathan, your mission is the most crucial one: get out there and see if you can find out what the hell is going on out there! Find out about this new virus and try to find a cure! The rest of us will hold this base. We'll try and save as many refugees as we can. But your mission is top priority! Now get out there!" Spray ordered.

And Nathan's mission was about to begin.

"But what about you sir?!" Nathan cried. "I can't just abandon you or the base!"

Spray gritted his teeth. "Look! You gotta go! You're the only one who can find out more about this damn thing! So GO!" he barked.

As he said that, a third barrage of missiles exploded on the outskirts of the base as the convoy began to move in. The black plane swore loudly as he started his engine and looked back at Nathan. "Please."

Nathan gulped. "I'll come back for you, sir…" He said.

Spray nodded. "Now go!" he snapped.

Arleigh turned to face him. "Me as well, sir?" he asked.

Spray nodded with a fierce determination. "Yes. The more people who get out to warn the others, the better!"

The other destroyer nodded and the two turned, heading out for sea as fast as they could go.

They passed New York on the way out who quickly joined them. "Mind if I tag along you two?" She purred, batting her eyelashes at Nathan who blushed hard and looked away.

Arleigh shrugged a bit. "Not at all. The more help we get the better." He shot a glance back at the base as they sailed away at full speed. "I just hope they can hold out..."

"Th-they will." Nathan stammered, eyes flickering to New York. He was totally enamored and too shy to come forward about it. Arleigh sensed the opportunity to tease his brother a bit.

"Well, Nate... You sure seem to get tongue tied around her!" he teased, smirking and nudging the other ship. New York giggled a bit in response.

The other destroyer blushed beet red at the comment. "Sh-shaddup." He stammered, shooting a glare at his older brother.

New York giggled at his reaction.

A loud explosion from the base further back caught their attention and Arleigh narrowed his eyes. "We'll joke later. We gotta get moving."

New York nodded. Arleigh breathed a sigh of relief though he was still blushing as he felt the San Antonio's eyes on him. The trio of ships continued on, heading as fast as they could for the coast, where they'd make their way to the next base. The only problem now was where they were supposed to go.

"Let's go North first, to New York. I want to see how many others there are that could help." Nathan suggested. "Plus they have a good lab there. Maybe we can analyze this thing."

The two nodded. "Good idea," Arleigh said with a grin as he winked at him.

"I agree. The more we know about it the better," New York added.

But things were just about to get a lot worse as they made their way to the city. Things that would force them to rethink their plan... and fast.

The ships that weren't sick were quarantined inside the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The small number included a few more Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, two Ticodaroga-class cruisers and one lone submarine, the Lost Angeles-class USS Greenville. The three ships arrived, and boy were they relieved to see that some others were unharmed by the Sickness, as it was becoming known. But the number was small, and Arleigh began to worry that this number might not be enough.

One of the other ships looked over and blinked, her eyes widening at the group. "Nathan? Arleigh? New York? What are you guys doing here?" she asked.

Arleigh looked at them with a dead serious gaze. "Long story short, we're here to try and get your help."

"Well everyone in here has yet to become infected." Ticonderoga replied.

Arleigh pursed his lips. "What's the status on the rest of the fleet?" he asked. He checked over the remaining ships, noting how they had their weapons on edge and primed. The submarine himself was a bit antsy, since he was claustrophobic.

He tended to get the jitters when he was enclosed, so he was fidgeting nervously as he flicked his diving planes up and down. "And when will we get outta here?" he asked. "I hate closed spaces..."

"Soon Green, soon." Ticonderoga promised, nuzzling the sub at a pressure point to calm him down.

Greeneville did relax, but his diving planes still twitched a bit.

"Any idea about the rest of the fleet?" Arleigh repeated.

"I've heard most of my brethren are fine down in Groton. They have yet to become infected." Greeneville said.

"As for the rest, we don't know. Communication has been sparse but panic is widespread." Ticonderoga said. "If we're not careful we could have a riot on our hands."

Arleigh nodded, feeling a bit at ease. "What about the rest here in New York?" he asked.

New York shot a glance around, trying to find her other sisters, the other two 9/11 tribute ships. ' _Where are they_?' she thought in worry.

As though she could read her mind, Ticonderoga shook her head and said "they have the virus, York."

New York's bow paled and her eyes widened. "No..." she whispered, her hull starting to shake in horror.

Arleigh sensed this and gently nuzzled the San Antonio class, his eyes filled with sympathy and concern for her. Off to the side, Nathan didn't know what to say. In fact, he came closer and joined his brother in nuzzling her, but in a more... intimate... manner.

She leaned into him, desperate. Her whimpers turned to sobs as tears ran down the sides of her face. His eyes closed and he nuzzled her, a worried look crossing his face. "I...I'm sorry..." was all he could say.

"They're goners. I know they are." New York whimpered.

Nathan nuzzled her comfortingly. "It'll be alright." He said.

"Thank you." She murmured.

Arleigh turned back to look at the other ships. "So, any of you willing to assist us in trying to find out more about this virus?" he asked.

"I will." Greenville said. "Beats sitting here anyway!"

Arleigh nodded. "All right. You're with us then."

The submarine chased his stern in excitement.

One of the other ships looked the trio in the eye. "How bad is it right now?" she asked. "The rate of infection?"

"The last I heard it was at Phase 4 at the WHO, spreading outwards to different countries." Nathan replied.

Arleigh narrowed his eyes before he turned to face Nathan. "Hey, Nathan. You paying attention?" he asked.

Nathan nodded. "Of course." He replied.

Arleigh pivoted to face him. "The virus is at Phase 4 according to the WHO. And it's spreading rapidly."

New York's eyes widened. "Already?!" she blurted.

"It's quick, that much is obvious." Nathan said.

Arleigh pursed his lips and nodded.

"I still wish I knew how it spread. If we knew, maybe then we could keep it from spreading further." Nathan said.

One of the other ships rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Well the humans are already trying to figure that out as well," he said.

"But they haven't found anything." Nathan shot back. "A virus shouldn't be able to spread so quickly on its own. So think Nathan, think!" He smacked his bridge. "It could only spread so fast if it had a carrier! And the only carrier capable of spreading it globally would be something that could fly. Birds, that's it!" He cried. "Birds are the carriers. That's why it's been spreading so rapidly. They're immune to it but they spread it wherever they fly!"

Everyone looked at him. "You... you really think that's what happened?" a second ship muttered.

"..." Arleigh was deadly silent as he narrowed his eyes.

"Nathan's gotta be right," he said. The other ships looked at him. "Nathan is a PhD in bio. He's got good sense in these matters. And... I trust him."

Nathan looked at his brother, shocked. "Could you say that again? Like another million times." He said.

Arleigh smirked. "Not in your life!" he joked.

His mood was interrupted by a sudden coughing and all those present turned to face another ship coming in.

"Stay back!" Kentucky roared.

The Ohio-class sub's black hull was covered in sores and blisters. She looked bad, very bad. She could barely keep her head on the surface. The group watched in horror as the sub made her way over, only to collapse onto her side, panting heavily.

"Oh, shit...!" Arleigh whispered.

"D-don't come close to me." Kentucky rasped. An agonizing cough followed her statement and blood glistened on her lips.

The group looked at one another nervously, unsure of what to do next. "What should we do?" a ship asked.

Greenville whimpered, his planes twitching as he tried to resist the urge to go to his fellow sub. New York watched as the poor sub began to whimper and coughed again, splattering blood close to her. She yelped and inched back, her eyes wide. Nathan rubbed against her, hoping to ease her distress.

"It's okay. It's okay." He whispered.

Kentucky shivered from bow to stern, wanting nothing more than gentle touch but giving into such a temptation would bring another ship down with her.

"I'm sorry. I failed..." She rasped.

"You didn't fail..." Arleigh rasped, although he could tell she was in distress. "In fact... I think..." He was surprised when Nathan darted forward and, using a discarded trash can, scooped up some blood dripping from one of the docks. Apparently the young destroyer had had an idea and was going to act on it.

"If I can get a blood sample, I might be able to create a vaccine." He explained as he worked.

"Well hurry it up, kid!" Kentucky wheezed, eyes flickering open and closed.

The other destroyer nodded. "Okay. But hurry up!" he ordered. He did not want the younger to get sick from this. His skills were needed desperately.

Nathan caught on. "Aww, so you actually do care. I'm touched bro." He said, making the dramatic motion of wiping a tear from his eye.

"Just get the damn sample and get outta there!" New York snapped. "She's getting worse!"

"Working on it." Nathan replied.

Kentucky coughed again, and Nathan had to dodge the blood as it hit the water close to his side. He finally had enough of a sample and darted away as the Ohio sub shuddered and barfed, losing all her lunch and some radioactive fuel from her reactor.

"That's not good at all." Nathan said. "I can get the stuff I need but not in time. I'm sorry..." He bowed his head.

The sub smiled weakly. "It's okay..." she whispered. "Just... find... the... cure..."

And with that, USS Kentucky finally succumbed to the virus.

"NO!" Greenville wailed.

He rushed forward but was held back by Arleigh.

"Let me go please!" the sub sobbed.

"I'm sorry!" Arleigh said, putting his bow on the distraught sub. "I... I really am. But there's nothing we can do."

He closed his eyes and nuzzled the smaller vessel. "Nothing except find a cure."

Nathan approached. "With the primordial sample I can figure out just what family this virus belongs to, then with some supplies from the onshore lab I can began concocting the vaccine." He said. "I'm sorry about Kentucky. Even if I had the cure ready she was too far gone for it to have worked."

"You'd need to head to the Antarctic to find something like that," one of the other destroyers, Winston S. Churchill said. His eyes were hard.

"I'm the only one who knows how to work up this thing. I'll go myself. The rest of you should fan out, see who else might be alive." Nathan ordered.

They nodded. But before they left, New York stopped Nathan by grabbing his stern with her teeth. "Nathan. Wait!" she cried.

Nathan paused and turned around, his eyes gentle. "Yes New York?" He asked.

"Please... be careful..." she whispered.

"I will." He kissed her. "And I'll come back. I promise."

New York blinked, and melted into the kiss, her eyes closing. As they parted, she nodded. "Okay. I... I love you..."

"And I love you." Nathan replied. "Stay safe."

She nodded. And soon, Nathan was on his way, heading out and leaving the rest of the fleet behind.

"Think he'll be okay?" She asked Arleigh.

"I know he will be," Arleigh said softly. "I know he will."

He let the " _I hope"_ go unspoken.


	5. Chapter 5

As Nathan made his way down the coast of New York state, he began to wonder just how the humans were handling the situation.

The news on the radio wasn't good. Chaos was rampant everywhere. In the midst of the chatter came a call over the radio from the Secretary of Defense.

"USS Nathan James, DDG-151."

The young destroyer perked up. He got on the line at once. "USS Nathan James here," he said.

"You have new orders to go to Africa and pick up Dr. Rachael Scott of the WHO. She has been collecting primordial samples of the virus. Then you're to head to the Antarctic to allow her to conduct more research. This is a classified operation Nathan and your cover story is 3 months of drill exercises. " The SecDef said.

Nathan blinked, then nodded. "Yes, sir!" he said.

He just didn't know how much those orders would change his life and the lives of those around him.

"Good boy."

Coordinates came over the link.

"This is where you'll go to welcome Dr. Scott. Quickly Nathan, things are bad here. The sooner we find the cure the better. And one more thing."

Nathan straightened. "Yes sir?" He asked.

"You must tell no one of this, not even Captain Chandler." The SecDef ordered.

Nathan nodded and closed down the line. He turned and started his engines, heading for the coordinates he just received.


End file.
